


Abnormally Festive

by Andromache_42



Series: SPN Advent Calendar 2019 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Allergic reaction, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anaphylaxis, Company Christmas Party, Established Relationship, Executive!Dean, Happy Ending, Interior Designer!Cas, M/M, Medical Emergency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21752773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromache_42/pseuds/Andromache_42
Summary: After a moment of searching, his smile softened as his gaze fell on his husband across the room. Dean always cleaned up well (Castiel never could resist him in a suit, as he proved after that fateful New Year’s Eve party years ago), and tonight was no exception. He looked stunning in a deep forest green, velvet tuxedo jacket, accompanied by a dark brass colored bow tie. Castiel had a difficult time keeping his hands off of him in the soft fabric, but he didn’t want to ruin the custom-fit Tom Ford.Written for Supernatural Advent Calendar 2019Day 4: Egg Nog
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: SPN Advent Calendar 2019 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561129
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	Abnormally Festive

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains a description of a character experiencing anaphylaxis following an allergic reaction. Everyone is fine in the end, but please take precautions if you need to!

“Hello, Castiel, darling. What do you think of the party?”

Castiel took a deep breath and leaned onto his elbow against the bar. “As ostentatious as ever, Bela.” Bela Talbot, Sandover’s Senior VP of Media and Marketing and self-appointed company party planner, smiled venomously at him from behind her holiday-colored martini.

“Thank you, you know how much I value your opinion.”

Castiel inclined his head toward her, ignoring the subtle dig. As an interior designer with his own successful firm, Castiel found himself cornered by Bela at every one of Sandover’s company parties he’d ever attended. The first one had been a lavish New Year’s Eve party hosted in one of the swankiest restaurants in town, and he’d been nervous; Castiel’s social skills were rusty at best on a good day. It had taken a great deal of coaxing from his new boyfriend to get him to return to a party after Bela’s thorough dressing-down ended in stares and titters from the other executives and their dates.

Now, though, he’s learned to ignore her ribbing. And her taste.

“Ice sculptures, nice touch,” Castiel said. “I guess we know where the accounting pool’s bonuses went this year.”

The bartender either had miraculous timing, or he’d been eavesdropping enough to know exactly when to step in, because it was at that point he placed two large glass mugs of rum-spiked egg nog in front of Castiel. With a grateful half-smile to the young man behind the counter, Castiel scooped up the drinks and smiled placidly at Bela. “Merry Christmas,” he said, then swooped away with an air of satisfaction.

After a moment of searching, his smile softened as his gaze fell on his husband across the room. Dean always cleaned up well (Castiel never could resist him in a suit, as he proved after that fateful New Year’s Eve party years ago), and tonight was no exception. He looked stunning in a deep forest green, velvet tuxedo jacket, accompanied by a dark brass colored bow tie. Castiel had a difficult time keeping his hands off of him in the soft fabric, but he didn’t want to ruin the custom-fit Tom Ford. Dean was busy chatting with bubbly red-haired Charlie from the IT department about some new video game due to be released in the new year. Castiel slid in next to Dean, brushing the back of his hand against Dean’s velvet-clad elbow.

“Hello, Charlie,” Castiel said, handing Dean his drink.

“What’s up, Cas?” Charlie said, flashing him a grin, looking him up and down. “Ugh, you, too? You guys are so hot, it’s totally unfair. If I were into dudes, I’d be all over that.”

“Get your own, Red,” Dean replied, kissing Castiel gently on the cheek. Castiel turned his head toward Dean, earning a soft kiss on the lips. Charlie pretended to gag.

“Enough, get a room! You know I love you two, but there’s only so much this single gal can take.”

Dean pulled away from Castiel with a small smile, green eyes sparkling in the golden light of the party. “Okay, okay, we’re done,” Dean said, taking a sip of egg nog. Castiel sipped his own; it wasn’t his favorite thing, but given the caliber of the party, the quality of the rum came through. Dean smacked his lips. “Good nog,” he grunted, taking another long drink.

“Oh my god, a caveman in couture,” Charlie laughed. Castiel smiled.

“Do you have any plans for the holiday?” he asked.

“Probably going to go see my mom. Been a while since I visited; with all the upgrades I’ve been working overtime and haven’t had the time to travel, you know?” Castiel nodded.

“I know. Dean hasn’t been home on time for dinner since August. I’m glad the expansion is done and we can get back to normal.”

“Hey, I’m standing right- _ahem_ -right here, guys,” Dean stammered, clearing his throat.

“Careful, buddy, easy on the nog,” Charlie teased.

“Yeah,” Dean choked out, eyes watering. He shook his head slightly and cleared his throat again. “Man, sorry. Don’t know what’s going on there.”

Castiel’s brow knitted together as he took Dean’s almost empty cup from his hand and placed it on a passing empty serving tray.

The evening carried on with more soft music and a few speeches from the company’s leadership. He couldn’t help but notice Dean fidgeting a little more than usual. He placed a soothing hand on his shoulder, and it seemed to help. As the night wore on, Dean gradually started losing parts of his outfit; first, the bowtie came off and he unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

“Too hot in here,” he said as Castiel carefully folded up the tie and placed it in the inner pocket of his jacket.

Later, there was a little dancing on the small dance floor, Castiel’s hand resting gently on the soft fabric of Dean’s shoulder as the room glittered around them. After a few songs, though, Dean shed his jacket, too, face flushed deep red with exertion. He swept Castiel back into his arms for a slow dance, pressing their chests together as they swayed smoothly back and forth.

“Thanks for coming, babe,” Dean murmured into Castiel’s ear, making him shiver. “By the way, your ass looks amazing in those pants.”

“Can’t wait to get you home,” Castiel whispered back, placing a surreptitious kiss below Dean’s ear. Dean pulled away just enough to kiss him properly, just on the wrong side of chaste to be surrounded by company board members. Castiel sighed into the kiss and let it linger a little longer than he probably should have in public.

“I love you,” he breathed, and Dean tightened his grip on Castiel’s waist.

“Love you too, sweetheart,” Dean replied softly.

_I have never been this happy_ , Castiel thought. The song ended, and Castiel stepped back to lead Dean off the dance floor. Dean squeezed his hand, but when Castiel started to walk away, Dean didn’t move.

“Dean?” Castiel asked, turning back to face him.

“It’s okay,” Dean said, holding up a hand, but Dean did not look okay. A blotchy red rash was spreading down his neck, sweat beading across his forehead. He pressed a hand to his chest, his breathing quick and labored.

“Dean?”

A couple of other people had noticed Dean’s apparent distress, coming over from their seats as Dean glanced around, tugging at the open collar of his shirt. Castiel’s heart raced as he reached out for him.

“Cas—” Dean wheezed, grabbing hard onto Castiel’s wrist with his free hand.

“What’s wrong with Dean?”

“Is he having a heart attack?”

Castiel grabbed Dean’s hand and held him upright as he clearly struggled to breathe.

“Call an ambulance!”

“Dean?” Castiel asked, but Dean wasn’t responding, puffy lips moving but unable to form words. “Dean? _Dean_!”

The first thing Dean realized was that, at some point, he must have passed out. He was laying in a hospital bed, monitors beeping away next to him, an oxygen cannula under his nose. The lights were bright and florescent, which made him wince. There was noise outside of the small room, but inside was quiet other than the machines.

Cas’s messy hair was tickling Dean’s arm where Cas had fallen asleep against the bed. Dean lifted his hand, careful of the IV tubes, and ran his fingers through it. Cas stirred (he’d always been a light sleeper), then sat upright and blinked owlishly at Dean.

“Hey, baby,” Dean croaked. Cas’s eyes flashed.

“You’re an idiot,” Cas grumbled. Dean chuckled.

“Nice to see you, too. What the fuck happened?”

“Apparently you’re allergic to nutmeg.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Nutmeg allergy, huh? Never heard of that.”

“Yes, well, it’s incredibly rare, so of course you have it. The doctors said you had an abnormally strong reaction. We’ll have to be very careful in the future, since once you’ve experienced anaphylaxis, you’re more likely to again. I’ll have to have your assistant let the company leadership know, though they all saw what happened . . .”

Cas had immediately launched into mr.-fix-it mode, which was cute, but also Dean’s head kind of hurt, and he really wanted to cuddle with his husband.

“Not gonna lie, Cas, I feel like shit. Can we talk about this later?”

Cas’s eyes narrowed. “You could have died, Dean.”

Dean shrugged. “So we carry an epi-pen from here on out, no big deal.” Cas glared further. “I’ll make sure to be careful. Now come up here and cuddle me, dammit.”

For a moment, it looked like Cas might refuse, but whatever he saw in Dean’s eyes made him relent. Careful of the tubes and wiring attached to Dean, he crawled into the narrow bed and wrapped himself around Dean as best he could.

“It seems it was the egg nog,” Cas murmured against Dean’s chest. Dean huffed out a laugh.

“Well, that’d be a story to tell the grandkids. Killed by egg nog.”

“There won’t be any grandchildren if you die, Dean.”

The worry in Cas’s tone was clear. Dean kissed the top of his head and pulled him closer.

“Not gonna happen,” Dean said. “Besides, when I die, it’s gonna be because of something way cooler. It’s gonna definitely be pie that gets me.”

“If you’re not careful, it might be. They put nutmeg in pie, too.”

“Okay fine. Sex, then,” Dean said, which made Cas chuckle, so Dean smiled a little as they lapsed into silence.

A long moment passed before Dean felt Cas matching his breathing, calming the both of them. Safe, with his husband pulled against his chest, Dean laughed into the quiet.

“Fucking egg nog. Jesus . . .”


End file.
